


Pretend

by aishahiwatari



Series: Trektober 2019 [24]
Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Aftercare, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Coming Untouched, Consensual Non-Consent, Dirty Talk, Doctor Leonard "Bones" McCoy, Extortion, Held Down, Implied but Off-Screen, M/M, PWP, Rape Roleplay, Roleplay, Rough Oral Sex, Safewords, Sexual Roleplay, Thief James T. Kirk, Threats, Virginity Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-24
Updated: 2019-10-24
Packaged: 2021-01-02 07:56:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,109
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21158240
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aishahiwatari/pseuds/aishahiwatari
Summary: “Now. You don’t want me to go telling your parents about this, do you?”Jim sighs, closes his eyes, even as he rejoices a little. This will be bad; whatever authority figures suggest he does to get himself out of trouble always is, but it’s better than the alternative of not being given a choice at all. “No, sir.”(for day 24 of Trektober 2019, prompt: Sexual extortion)





	Pretend

**Author's Note:**

> This is an entirely consensual non-consent roleplay scenario, but that's not mentioned at any point until they're done. They definitely talked about this and have safewords but that's not detailed here.
> 
> Read the tags, this one's a real mess.
> 
> Jim's roleplay age is not stated but I imagine them well-established at the Academy for this, so he is at least 23.

“Now. You don’t want me to go telling your parents about this, do you?”

Jim sighs, closes his eyes, even as he rejoices a little. This will be bad; whatever authority figures suggest he does to get himself out of trouble always is, but it’s better than the alternative of not being given a choice at all. “No, sir.”

“And I should tell them, really. Their boy’s stealing drugs. What is it you wanted? Money?”

Jim glares sullenly at the doctor who thinks he knows a single fucking thing about his life. “I’m not a drug dealer. I just wanted to get high. Forget, for a while.”

“Well, seems to me like I’m the one with something needs forgetting, all of a sudden. You got any suggestions for how you might be able to help with that?”

Oh, sure. Make it seem like Jim’s idea when it’s clear what he wants, what they all want. Jim refuses to give him the satisfaction of responding, just slides out of his chair and onto his knees, lifts his chin, stares down the already visible bulge in black slacks. At least a doctor’s likely to be clean and healthy. Jim leans in, noses at that bulge, feels his own cock twitch reluctantly at the scent and feel of it, and then he says the words that never fail to push this little scenario along.

“I’ll do anything.”

Yeah, you will.” There’s a fist clenched in his hair, then, holding him still as that bulge is pressed more firmly against his face, as the doctor’s free hand works at his button and zipper.

He pulls his dick out through the slit in his briefs, too, and Jim’s eyes widen, just for a moment, because it’s big. Bigger than he’s ever taken before, and so close he can feel the heat coming off it. The shaft is pressed against his cheek, then taken in hand so the bead of pre-come at the tip can be smeared across Jim’s cheek, the head tapped against his lips until he parts them.

Jim’s breathing faster, his heart pounding. This is never gentle, and if this guy wants to stuff that monster down his throat he’s going to struggle to take it. And he knows that their little agreement hinges on his doing a good job.

Sure enough, the doctor grips his chin tightly to force him to look up, to meet darkened eyes. “You suck it good, you hear. You such that memory right out, and swallow it down, and thank me for it, and maybe I don’t make any calls this afternoon.”

Jim does his best to nod. It seems to be enough; his chin is released and the fat head of that cock fed between his lips. He hates that he kind of likes this, the sensations alone, that having that hot and heavy weight pressing down on his tongue never fails to make him twitch and strain against his jeans. This guy is clean, too, smelling of musk and body wash, nothing offensive to Jim’s senses, nothing to distract him from the sexually charged thrill of being penetrated.

He wraps his lips around the shaft, still near the tip, swirling his tongue around the head, tasting the fluid already leaking, salty and bitter. Not unpleasant. Jim should hate this more than he does, but he thinks the doctor’s aware of the risks, unwilling to push him too hard, too fast and inflict any injuries he can’t explain away.

“Take some more, that’s it,” he says, too, when Jim tries, when he wraps a hand around the base to move with his mouth because he’s struggling, already, with the push against his gag reflex, the ache in his jaw. It’s almost like praise, and it makes Jim want to try harder, but he ducks his head and he gags, takes a few deep breaths and tries again and gags. When he attempts to force it, his stomach threatens to revolt and he has to pull off entirely or risk a disaster.

“And here I thought you were going to be good,” the doctor sighs, ruefully, but he doesn’t seem as disappointed as Jim would have expected. “Guess we’ll have to do this the hard way.”

He hauls Jim to his feet, holding him up effortlessly by his forearms when the sudden movement makes Jim’s head spin. And then he turns Jim around and bends him over one of the hospital beds.

“This’ll work just as well, for me,” he says, and Jim finally finds the resolve to get his hands down and attempt to push himself up but there’s a crushing eight between his shoulder blades, holding him down. “Or I could call your parents.”

Fuck. No. Jim sags, eyes squeezed shut, every breath dragged unwilling through his lungs with a harsh sound.

“You’re not telling me you’ve never done this before, are you?” he’s asked, and regret and shame make him bury his face in his arms, even as skilled fingers begin to work at the buttons of his jeans. “Oh, you are a prize, aren’t you? Well, then that’s our new deal. You let me fuck this tight little virgin ass of yours-“ he pauses to run appreciative hands down Jim’s thighs before he pulls his jeans down, takes Jim’s briefs with them- “And I won’t say a word.”

Jim sniffles. This wasn’t part of the deal, but he knows he has no choice, not if he wants this man to keep his secret. He shudders, fists clenching in the bedsheets, as thumbs press into the cheeks of his ass, pulling them apart, exposing his hole. He clenches instinctively, and earns a pleased murmur, the press of a thumb just testing the dry resistance. Jim does his best to relax. This is going to happen, and it doesn’t even feel that bad, the circular rubbing of that thumb making his shift with the conflicting desires for less and more.

It’s good. It shouldn’t be, Jim knows, and he should be fighting and screaming to get away, willing to take a beating back home to avoid this. But he’s not.

There’s the crack of a bottle opening, and then a sudden cool, wet sensation below his tailbone, dripping down his crease, over his hole, down his balls. He hears it drip onto the bunched-up fabric of his jeans, around his ankles, and flushes with confused humiliation. The doctor has to be watching, enjoying the flutter of his opening and the twitches of his somehow still-hard cock, exposed and just butting up against the underside of the bed.

He has to be quiet, he knows, but at the first press of something inside him he has to bite back a scream, turn it into a strangled groan that’s met with a moan of approval.

“You ever touch yourself there?” the doctor asks, and Jim doesn’t have to answer, it’s not part of their deal, but he shakes his head anyway, his next breath coming out on a groan too because there’s still something inside him, warm and smooth and slim like a gloved finger that forces him to part around it. It burns, the stretch, and it’s a lot, so much, but Jim still doesn’t want it to stop.

In fact, he thinks, it would almost feel better with more, and he’s pushed his hips back to take it, felt his hole stretch briefly around the ridge of a knuckle before he realises what he’s doing.

“Oh, you like that. You want more, sweet thing?”

Jim sobs in lieu of admitting he does, but more slides in so easily his body has to be giving him away.

“You were made for this,” the doctor says with more reverence than Jim thinks he’s ever heard in anyone before, and when he pulls his finger out, warmed from Jim’s insides, Jim almost objects.

Then he pushes in with two, and Jim can hardly breathe. It hurts, and there’s more, the knuckles and the base of those fingers to much wider than the tips, and he’s whining under his breath, shrill little animal sounds the doctor eats up like Jim’s conflicting pleasure and pain are all he needs. He twists, too, so every single ridge rubs against Jim’s sensitive, stretched opening, and it sends sparks up his spine that he doesn’t even know how to interpret any more.

Jim just sags against the sheets and lets it happen.

“That’s it. Good boy.”

Oh, no. That’s not fair. Jim whimpers at the praise, because he’s ridiculous and pathetic and there are three fingers trying to find their way inside him and he wants to take them, wants to be good, wills his body to part around them and feels his cock pulse out pre-come as he does. Maybe he was made for this. He’s certainly enjoying it much more than he should.

When those fingers have done their work and withdrawn, Jim feels loose and open, can’t clench his hole tight, just tries and feels it flutter uselessly until then -after all the build-up- there is a wide, blunt pressure there that can only be the head of the doctor’s thick cock.

He pushes in, has stretched Jim wide enough that the fullness is all he registers and God, he likes it. He’s fed up with pretending he doesn’t. He moans, whispers, “Please,” and spreads his legs as wide as he can.

“Maybe I will call your parents,” the doctor muses, and Jim’s instinctive struggling only makes him clench tight and push back to take more before the doctor’s hand slams down around the back of his neck to pin him in place. “I’ll tell them you just need to learn a few lessons and I’m the best one to teach you. Bring you back here every week. Train you to take it like the cockslut you clearly want to be.”

Jim’s mouth is hanging open, and he’s drooling as he pants. The doctor’s hips finally touch his ass, and he’s all the way in, balls-deep inside of Jim, that hard, thick cock spreading him wide. Jim’s cock dribbles uselessly, neglected, aching and, as the doctor withdraws and then shoves back in, bouncing sharply against the underside of the bed

“So fucking tight. How have you gone this long without someone putting you in your place like this?”

Jim has no idea. Every breath is a moan, now, his nipples hard and chafing against the fabric of his shirt, bunched up beneath him, blissfully painful. He cries out, can’t stop himself when one of the doctor’s thrusts hits something deep inside him that makes him see stars, whites out all sensation but bright, overwhelming pleasure just for an instant.

“Yeah, you’re sensitive aren’t you? Going to come like this? Fucked for the first time by a stranger who’s just using you like a cocksleeve? You wanna be used like a toy, bent over and fucked and filled until you’re senseless and drooling, I can see it. And I’ve got friends here, you know. Ones who’d fuck your throat while I pump your ass full, who’d come on your face as mine drips down your thighs. And then someone else takes their turn while you lick the mess off the floor-“

Oh, fuck. Jim comes with a helpless sob, to the rhythm of that cock in his ass, the sound of those words in his ear and it’s like nothing he’s ever felt, deep and never-ending, just pulses of come spattering onto the floor and with a few rolling thrusts, spilling inside of him, too. Filling him, leaking out around the cock that still plugs his hole until it doesn’t, when true to the threats it drips down the inside of his thighs in a slick, heated mess.

He feels like he might never get his breath back, adjusts his posture so less of his weight is on his chest, smiles at the fingers sliding through his hair, petting him gently, the kisses pressed to his cheek, even as he’s allowed to savour the lingering sensations of being thoroughly used.

“That was awesome, Bones,” he manages to say, or approximate, when he feels like he can breathe again, drinks in the answering smile as he meets still-concerned eyes. “Just intense. I’m great.”

“I didn’t hurt you?”

“You struck the perfect balance. As always.”

“You were gorgeous too, darlin’.”

Jim doesn’t need to hear it, but it’s nice anyway. He smiles, satisfied and lazy. “Two more minutes. Then you can clean. You okay?”

And Bones looks surprised, but also sated and a little proud when he says, “Yeah. Actually, I am.”

**Author's Note:**

> I’m also on [Tumblr](https://aishahiwatari.tumblr.com/)


End file.
